Determination
by The Crazy Breadstick
Summary: A young psychologist, Dr. John Smith, asks his new patient, the egotistical Master, a fateful question that seals their fates. From there, they work together to make the Master better again.
1. Difficult

_A random drabble written at midnight while I was drinking Coke and listening to Repo! The Genetic Opera. What else can I say? Pretty much a more in detail random text I sent to my sad friend that I turned into a drabble because it was fun. Enjoy. If it makes no sense, it's mainly because it's an inside joke between me and a friend. _

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. It'd be awesome if I did, though.**_

"So, tell me, Mister…" The tweed clad brunette looked over the hastily filled out information form on his clip board, searching for a name. He frowned at the only name that was there, written very largely. It wasn't very proper. He was most definitely a narcissist, "… Master. Why is it that you've come in to see me today?"

The young psychologist set his clipboard on the end table next to his chair. Crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together, he studied the scruffy looking blonde who had earlier entered his office and demanded to have a session with him. His new "patient" was in sitting in a chair adjacent from him, leaning back into the plush chair with his arms resting on both arms of the chair, as if he was sitting upon a throne. He was dressed in nothing fancy. A simple attire consisting of baggy black pants, gray running shoes, and a black hoodie. His hair was bleached and he obviously hadn't shaven for days, stubble growing on his face. Really, he could be a little more presentable. Though, beggars can't be choosers. The young man's practice was struggling. There were fewer patients now than there were in the beginning, not enough money to keep up with costs. He really would hate to charge his patients any more than was needed.

When Doctor John Smith (that was what was one his name tag at least) received no reply from the man, he grew concerned. Why wasn't he answering? Was he perhaps a little slow in the head? Nervous, maybe? The Silence was making him nervous, that was for sure. Unconsciously, he adjusted his bowtie (a nervous, annoying twitch of his), making sure it was straight. He never had liked the Silence. If there was one fear that he would admit to, it was his fear of Silence. That and angel statues. Really, what was there to like about those eerily creepy winged figures? He didn't like wine much either. Disgustingly bitter stuff. Oh, but if he had fish fingers and custard than everything was perfect! There was nothing better than- wait! The Doctor's patient finally moved, resting his face on his hand in a thinking pose.

"Why am I here you ask?"

His tone seemed to almost be mocking him, a smirk now graced his face. It was a rhetorical question, of course, requiring no response. The Doctor knew this, and choose not to reply to his patient. After another moment, "the Master" chuckled and spoke again.

"Well, that's a relatively easy question to answer."

He stopped smirking and stared intently at the young man before him. It sent an unfamiliar feeling through the Doctor's body. What was this? Was this fear? Was he sudden afraid of his new patient? But why? Why did he need to even ask that question? The crazed look in his patient's eyes told him why. He could tell from his patient's eyes that the blonde before him was insane. Completely and utterly mad. Not only that, but in despair. He could see into his very soul and see the suffering that he was enduring. Why did he feel that way? The Doctor didn't know. But he told himself right then and there that'd he find out. He'd use all the power he had to find out and help this poor lunatic. He realized it wasn't fear that coursed through his veins now, it was determination. A determination that he was determined to fulfill.

"You see, I suppose it's because the last shrink I spoke to, couldn't help me. I was just too, what's the word, oh yes! Difficult."

_Well, that's it, I suppose. I hope you enjoyed the little drabble, and you know what? I might just continue it if anyone thinks I should. Review please! It helps me greatly! :D_


	2. Trust

_By popular demand (and by popular demand I mean three reviewers and three friends… so six people!), I have decided to continue __Determination__. I can't promise that it'll be often or long. I'm a very busy person, and writer's block is a great enemy of mine who likes to torment me daily. However, I do promise to try and update as often as possible and write with all my heart and the best of my abilities! This will be my first chapter fanfiction, so bare with me and sorry in advanced if I accidently make the Doctor or the Master out of character. Thank you to AKs-on-show, TimeSpaceandMe, Pasta Loving Masochist (mah Italy buddy! :D), and Hero of the Mind for reviewing and giving me the drive to continue writing. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!_

_**Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Doctor Who. It belongs to the appropriate people, because at the moment, their names elude me, other than Moffat.**_

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><p>Difficult? Is that how "The Master" (He really needed to find a better name…) described himself, or his problems? The young Doctor hoped it was his problems, because the last thing he needed was an uncooperative patient. He had his fair share of those, in the past and in the present. He had been able to help the majority of them, but there were always the few that just won't let themselves be helped. If, however, he was one of those rare extremely hard to deal with patients, he would still be determined to figure him out and help him. It was his duty as a psychologist to help people, and it's what he had wanted to do since he was a small child. It's why he had chosen the career path and aspired to be great at it, no matter what it takes.<p>

With a smile, the Doctor leaned forward in his chair and clapped his hands together, "I'm sure it can't be too hard. With perseverance, I'm sure that you and I can solve any problems plaguing you. Why, all you have to do is truthfully tell me how you feel, listen to have I have to say, and apply them!" the brunette explained, rather chipper.

With such a confident attitude, he was sure he had reassured the blonde that his problems could be solved. That didn't seem to be the case, however, as a scowl became quite prominent on the Master's face. In turn, the Doctor's previous smile descended into a frown. Did he accidently say the wrong thing? The Doctor inquired, "Do you have an issue that? You know you're free to speak your mind. There's nothing that can't be said here. "

"Yeah, there's a problem," he replied with a rather annoyed tone, "You see, if you're going to act the way I think you're going to act, then this isn't going to work out."

The brunette raised an eyebrow. He had standards for his psychologists? What a picky fellow.

"Well, go on. I'm listening."

"Ok, here's what's up. I'm going to tell you only what I want to tell you, and if you have an issue with that then too bad. Second off, I'm not going to faithfully follow all your advice like a mindless animal because you are **not** the boss of me; I am the boss of me! I do what I want, I say what I want, and I think what I want because I am the Master! Got it? Good! Lastly if you're going to be one of those high and mighty, only in this for the money psychologists who are going to say "Oh! Time's up!" while I'm in the middle of saying something because the hour or whatever is up, then I'm already done with you. I don't want a conventional psychologists with all their "and how do you _feel_ about that?" and their little logical mind games that make their patient feel like shit. I want a psychologist who's going to work with me and take the time and the effort to actually help me. This is the eleventh doctor I've gone to, and frankly, I'm tired of it. Now, can you do that?"

After his long explanation (that honestly, the Doctor figured was summarized) the Master, who had actually gotten up, collapsed back into his chair and let himself relax. He suddenly looked much older and so very tired, like he had lived for centuries and done so much and gained so little. The Doctor, however, did not feel tired at all, though he was certainly blown back by the outburst. No, if anything, he suddenly felt his blood boil and his face grow red with the heat of his anger. How dare he? How dare he accuse him of being in this only for the money! He had sacrificed so much to be where he was today, and to have a man who barely knew him accuse of him of being greedy, manipulative, and condescending? How dare he! This man, this patient, this so called "Master" knew nothing about him! He wanted nothing more at that moment to suddenly punch his patient in the face and throw him out for accusing him of something that was completely against his morals!

However, the Doctor knew that this was just a natural reaction and his anger slowly turned into pity. The blonde had so much distrust for psychologists. From what he was implying, everyone before him gave up on him. Previous professionals like himself had thrown in the towel, or didn't even truly care to begin with and that just wasn't right. This man at least deserved a fighting chance at a happy life. A psychologist's job is to help their patients with their everyday problems. Though they liked to say that they always succeeded, sometimes their work was never done. Psychologists had to be completely committed to their patients and be determined to help, like he was. If anything, this sudden accusation just made him more determined to help him and beat all those previous psychologists. He knew he had a good chance of succeeding in improving his life, putting old fears and memories to rest, or whatever he needed.

The Doctor licked his lips, noticing how dry his mouth suddenly was and sat up straight in his chair. "Master, look at me." He said, his tone even and serious.

The Master wasn't _not_ looking at him, per say. He was staring more or less past the Doctor, seemingly deep in thought or maybe he was seeing something that Doctor couldn't. His right arm was resting on the arm of the chair again and he was tapping the arm with his finger in a rhythm.

"Master." The Doctor repeated, waiting patiently for the haggard man to look at him.

It took a few more moments, but the blonde's eyes shifted from the wall behind the Doctor to his face, straight to his eyes. The two held eye contact for what seemed like an eternity as the psychologist gingerly chose the words that would seal the unspoken pact between the two.

"I have no intentions what so ever of being like the others. I want to help, and I'm not saying that for a reason such as money. I generally want to help you. I am determined to help you in any way that I can. Not only is it my job, but it's my passion to help people, and it's what drives me to get up in the morning and live every day. But, if I'm going to help you, we have to really work together, and we can't we have the hostility that you're showing me. We haven't even known each other for twenty minutes, and you're already being aggressive. Please, I need you to trust me. Trust me and as I'm going trust you, and we can succeed. Ok?"

It took only a minute before the Master to reply. Perhaps he was just building suspense, or perhaps he was truly thinking over what the Doctor said. Either way, the Doctor couldn't help but smile when he heard four words come from his newest patient's lips.

"Ok, I'll trust you."

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><p><em>I hope you all enjoy this newest chapter. I was really worried while I was writing it that I didn't capture their characters correctly. Oh, and so you know, I have absolutely no clue how a psychologist works, but I'm assuming that I'm doing a pretty ok job. Please review! I need them!<em>

_**Fun Fact: Did you know that if you put toothpaste on one of those nasty, yucky, painful, infected zits and pimples that it's suppose to help clear the infection? At least, that's what my mother tells me. o3o I guess I'll inform you all next chapter if it works!**_


	3. In the Sense of a Name

_I have many things I want to say to my lovely readers, the ones who are faithfully following my just beginning story, or those who are just passing by to look. I suppose I should start by saying that I am sorry that it took so long to update and I am also quite unsure when I will be updating again. I have three stories I'm working on, as you all should hopefully know. If you didn't know, then perhaps you should have a glance at them. I'm not forcing you to of course. I'm just saying._

_As I worked on this latest chapter, I have faced quite a few obstacles and distractions. In the end, I'm relatively satisfied with the results. I want to just say, that it would have been published sooner if not for the fact that once I was 1000 words in, I suddenly got a weird hair and restarted. And yet, I basically said the same exact thing. My mind amazes me sometimes. The end was a little rushed, so it may not be as wordy as some of my other chapters and parts of this chapter, but I tried my best!_

_Those distractions I mentioned? They're at their peak right now and I simply can't spare anymore time to writing until they are over with. I should have just waited until it was over with to finish this, but I feel as though you've waited long enough. In the next two weeks, I have a play I will be performing at my high school. __The Hound of Baskervilles. __It's sure to be a great play! (Provided we have our lines down, our horrid British accents tolerable, and that I myself really settle down into my role.) After that, I have my archery practices, for I am going to Nationals! That won't be quite as time consuming though. I also have two other clubs I'm involved in, though I admit, I have been more or less ignoring them. I have prom the week __**after**__ the play and I'm also anticipating that still. I also have a job, school work (that's starting to slip), and issues with my families and friends. It's quite hectic for me this month. I also had another important activity last night that I will bring back up a little later._

_This story does have a definite plot. I will definitely be calling the Doctor and the Master as such titles. It's obvious what incarnation of the Master and Doctor they are, and there will be future appearances of other characters from __Doctor Who__. This is an AU, and there are pairings. And yes, there are one or two yaoi pairings. After this chapter, I'm planning to write one visit per chapter. Thus, they should be much longer chapters. This will mean that my chapters won't come out for a while, but as I like to say "Good things take time!" Which also makes me want to say, "Quality over quantity." I can't think of anything else to add at the very moment, but I will definitely remember later._

_I'm not even sure if you're still reading this author note, or if you ever were reading it to begin with. All I want to say now is that I would really appreciate it if you reviewed. I know, so many authors beg for reviews. You must be sick of reading it all the time. But really, I need those reviews. I may have mentioned it before, but if I haven't, here it goes: I have a self-esteem issue. I've had great self-esteem the past couple months but last night, it nearly shattered. I had a piano recital and I froze on stage. I don't really want to get into details but the point is, I had a shot taken straight to my confidence and without your reviews, I really don't feel as though I should continue writing. Without your reviews, I don't know if I need to keep writing or stop. I don't know if I'm doing good or bad, what I need to improve on, or anything. I'll probably be repeating this in my new chapters for a while. Just please, review. It doesn't take very long. All you even have to say is "Good job!" That's enough for me. I'm an easy person to please. _

_I want to thank Xx-silent-assassin-xX and Aja for continually pushing me forward. Without them and their opinions, I don't think I would have made it this far in the game. Thank you Pasta Loving Masochist, the anonymous Stalker, x-Cheezy-Fryze-x, and BiggerOnTheInside95 for their lovely reviews. I really appreciated it! You make my day when I get a review and I become more determined to write to, I might add. Thank you CRiCkET2U and c h i b i n a m e for favoriting. To those who are watching this story, thank you for your patience. I believe they are CrystalSearcher and BiggerOnTheInside95, yes? I really do thank all of you for enjoying my story and making it known to me._

_That's all I have to say for now. Thank you for reading this note, if you did. Please read the bottom author note as well! It's important! P.S. The tooth paste worked._

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC, not me. **

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><p>A smile generously spread across the Doctor's face and he let himself relax against his comfy chair once again. Wonderful! Having mutual trust was a good thing in any relationship, whether it's between a doctor and their patient, friends, etc. With that accomplished, he could now begin rehabilitation the Master and helping him with his problems, whatever they may be. A psychologist, after all, was supposed to help people function better in their day to day lives. Sometimes, they did great and sometimes, their work was never done. It always made him happy to see them become better, stress free people.<p>

The Master said he was too difficult for his previous psychologists. But what on Earth could be so hard that no one else could help him with it? The only things that the Doctor could see wrong with the Master at the present was trust issues, being a possible narcissist, and maybe being a control freak (for lack of a better word). Was there something more? Logically, the answer was yes and it was his job to crack open the Master's outer shell and get all the gooey inside information, pain, confusion, or anything else he was hiding so he could help him! That would be further down the road however. Right now, he needed to just get the basic information. From there, he could work on the more obvious issues and then dive deeper later.

"All right, Mister Master. Why don't we start with some questions, ok? That way, I have a better understanding of you and I can help you!" the Doctor began, his smile slowly forming into a grin.

Fidgeting slightly with the sleeves of his hoodie, the Master replied, "Only if I get to ask questions as well. That way it's fair."

The Doctor didn't answer immediately, thinking over if this was a good idea or not. It wasn't exactly a common request, but he saw no harm in it. As long as he didn't ask any questions that were out of line, they were fine. Besides, what was the worst he could ask?

"All right, I think that's fair enough," he agreed, giving a curt nod.

The Master's previous anxiousness seemed to disappear, a great confidence replacing it. It rather pleased the Doctor to see such an attitude, even if the grin he currently had made him a tad nervous.

"I'll start it off then," the Doctor began, clicking his pen, "what's your real name?"

"The Master," he replied, not missing a beat.

A frown replacing his smile, he asked again, "No, your _real_ name. The one you were _born _with."

"**The Master.**"

Sighing, the brunette clicked his pen and let it rest on the clipboard in his lap. Did he _really_ think his name was the Master, or was he just being difficult? There was no way he could really be called "The Master." No parent in their right mind would name their child that. Right?

"How about you tell me why you want to be called the Master then."

The Master looked almost insulted to be asked that; as if the Doctor already knew why and he was just simply trying to get the Master to just waste his time.

"That's obvious! It's because I **am** the Master. I am the Master of **everyone**! No one is as great as me. My real name is not nearly as awesome as the **Master**. It's so," he paused for a moment, trying to find a good word "boring and plain! I deserve more!"

The Doctor chewed on the end of his pen in thought. So he was right, the Master was a bit of a control freak and a narcissist. Though, he did notice a small indication of a self-esteem issue. That wasn't very hard to deal with. That couldn't possibly be what was so difficult, could it? No, of course not. There must be more.

Attempting to coax out the answer to his first question, the Doctor asked, "Did you have a name **before** the Master?"

The blonde hesitated to answer that at first, but gradually replied, "Well, yeah. Of course I did. But, I don't really like it and it's inferior to the Master! So, I don't use it unless it's for reasons like, oh I don't know, legal documents and my checks. Important stuff."

Quirking an eyebrow, the Doctor asked, "So you didn't think that it would be important to use your original name with me?"

"No, not really. I mean, come on; you're my shrink. If anyone would understand why I want to be called the Master, it'd be you."

Touché. He saw the logic in the blonde's reasoning now, but he didn't quite agree with it. Sure, he was his psychologist and he would definitely understand. But, he took his job seriously and it was a little insulting to be told that he wasn't being told his real name because he was "his shrink".

"While I do understand, I think that you should at least tell me your real name. I won't force you to use it with me, however. We can talk about whatever you'd like in here and can use your "title". But grant me the courteous of your real name. Please?"

The Master gazed at the brunette warily, obviously having a mental debate about whether he should tell him or not. After all, the young Doctor couldn't **force** him to reveal his name. He was simply asking and on most occasions the Master would say no. But perhaps… he could admit what his real name was to him. But not now. Not just yet. He couldn't bring himself to just yet.

"I'll tell you my name. Just not yet."

The Doctor sighed, surrendering for now. He wasn't going to get his real name out of him today, even if he kept pressing. So, it seemed that the Master was only truly the Master to him for now. Oh but the urge to know was going to gnaw at his brain until he got the truth. Oh woe was he.

"Do your friends, co-workers, and family call you the Master?" He asked.

"No, but they should! It's only right that they do. But, I suppose I understand and forgive them for it. After all, it's obvious that the awesomeness of my name is simply too overwhelming for their small minds to comprehend. Besides, I don't really have family or friends anymore. I also mainly work by myself, so I don't really have to worry about co-workers anyway. Damn imbeciles to begin with. I suppose that might also be the reason why they don't call me the Master," he paused for a moment before he continued, "What's your opinion on names and titles anyway? I mean, have you ever wanted a title? Your name is John Smith after all. Bloody _John Smith._ That's worse than my own!"

The Doctor held his tongue for a moment or two, making sure not to reply impulsively, but calculating and precise instead. He had earlier decided that brash and unprepared answers would not be a wise thing with this patient. He admittedly did feel a little bad for the Master when learning he apparently had no friends or family, but he decided to not comment about it.

"I believe that the name you are given with is very important and that you should treasure it, even if it isn't one you particularly like. However, I can't act like that creating your own name, no matter how ridiculous sounding it may be, is a bad idea. It can be a great confidence booster if you don't let it go to your head, which I might add, is what you're doing," The Doctor warned gingerly, "As for wanting a title; I suppose the idea itself is somewhat appealing. John _is_ a rather common name. But that's the beauty of it isn't it?"

A look of confusion crossed the Master's face and he sat up straighter in his chair.

"What do you mean?" he inquired.

The psychologist chuckled lightly. At least he was listening now; he had seemed to have gotten bored earlier and had gone back to tapping on the arm of his chair (He'd make a note that that was a sign he wasn't listening.). But now he had the Master's undivided attention.

"John Smith is a common name. And yes, it is the most common name in the English language. So, it's often disregarded and forgotten. I mean really, Bob is a much finer name. Such a sacred name. Bob. You don't hear people randomly say John do you? No, you hear Bob. Bob's simplicity is so sacred while John is just that. John. With such a common name, one could be discouraged from being great. So that's why, I haven't let it discouraged me. Instead, I've had it motive me. I want to be something. I don't want to be just another John Smith. I don't why people to say "John Smith, just another common bloke." No! I want people to say "John Smith, now that's a guy who did something with his life!" You understand, don't you? It's beauty is how ordinary it is."

The Master remained quiet for a considerable amount of time, obviously mulling over the Doctor's explanation. That gave the Doctor a little hope in having the blonde reveal his name sooner rather than later and generally gave him hope that the Master might already be improving already. After all, from what he had seen earlier, he didn't think the Master generally took other people's opinions into consideration.

"I see. That's," he paused for a moment to think of the right word, "an interesting view."

The Master seemed like he was going to say more, but a glance at the clock that hung high upon the office's wall (actually, his entire office was covered with clocks. He collected the amazing little gizmo!) caused him to leap from his chair with such vigor that the Doctor was caught off guard. Did he do something to offend the blonde? He had seemed to be just fine a moment ago! Perhaps this was another trait of his broken psyche that he hadn't noticed yet?

"Master? Is something wrong?" the Doctor asked, beginning to rise from his own seat.

Shooting the surprised Doctor a rather annoyed look, he snapped "I'm late! I wasn't supposed to be here this long! Most therapists! would have dismissed me at _least_ ten minutes ago!"

He pulled his worn down wallet (really, he was beginning to hold the wretched thing with duct tape) out of his hoodie pocket and throwing down a handful of pounds carelessly. Money seemed to be no issue for him, for the Doctor spied a particularly high number on one of them.

"Well, I'm not most therapists," the brunette mused before adding, "what exactly are you late for?"

"A meeting with my probation officer."

That most certainly was not what the Doctor was expecting. He had a probation officer? That meant that he had broken the law before! He had figured that the Master might have some issues because of his obvious psychological problems but this? This was not what he had expected at all.

"Wait!" the Doctor called out, unable to stop himself from doing so before the Master left.

The blonde was all ready out of the office, but he caught the closing door with an outstretched hand and pushed it open enough to look perplexingly at the Doctor.

"Yes?"

"The Doctor."

More confusion crossed the Master's features at the Doctor's sudden declaration.

"The _Doctor?_"

Licking his lips, the young man who was now standing up from his seat approached the Master. He was rather nervous, and unsure. Should he really be saying this? Was this going to help his patient or just cause more issues in the future? He wasn't sure, but he was going to take a gamble and hope it would help the Master. He stopped in front of the door so that he was looking more evenly at him.

"You wanted to know if there was a title I might like to be called, since 'John Smith' was so _boring_. You may call me "the Doctor." I rather fancy that. It's a title and it's all my own, just like yours. Besides, it's cool. Like bow ties!" he smiled, straightening his red bow tie to emphasize.

A steady gaze met the Doctor's grin that never fell from his face, even as the hands ticked by on the faces of his clocks. It seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few moments. The Master's head slowly nodded and he pulled his hand back from the door. As it began to close, the Master gave him a slightly cocky grin.

"All righty then. Good bye, Doctor. I'll be seeing you soon."

"Good bye, Master. I await your next visit."

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><p><em>Thank you for reading my newest chapter of <em>_Determination.__ Please review or even favorite if you so choose. I want to add that if you're ever wondering how my stories are doing, just look at my profile. I add the progress of how my stories are there and I update it every time I'm on the computer (which is about every single day.) So again, thank you for reading and your reviews (hopefully). Peace out. _

_Niki B_


	4. Phone Calls

_Hello my lovely fans! Thank you for your patience! I'm quite surprised I all ready have this out for all of you to read, especially since its final's week! I mean really! This is my last week of high school! It's kind of surreal. I'm going to miss it and at the same time, I'm not going to at all… anyway, I had planned to make this quite a bit longer. After all, I promised you all that I was going to make these chapters longer and with entire meetings in them! However, I believed that this was a good spot to stop. It just seemed right. _

_I forgot to mention that not every chapter is going to be just about the Master coming in for appointments. I'm going outside the office; I'm exploring the Master and the Doctor's outside life. I'm going to explore new characters and new patients! That also reminds me, if any of you want to suggest a patient, please leave it in a review or PM me. Please include a problem though, so I know __**why**__ you wanted this patient. I all ready have plans for the following:_

_Ianto Jones, Captain Jack Harkness, River Song, Amelia Pond, Jackie Tyler, Toshiko Sato, Rory Williams, Rose Tyler, the Tenth Doctor, and the Ninth Doctor_

_If I have forgotten anyone, well, I'll send you a reply to your PM or your review. Not all characters will be seen, some will simply be mentioned, but never the less, I will use any character you want to see in general! Just maybe not in the way you thought you'd see them. _

_The next chapter will be out very soon but please, do read my other stuff! I mean, this isn't my only story after all. I have another Doctor Who story, __**Saving Sanity**__, as well as a Torchwood story, __**Across the Rift**__, that I have been working on with __**Xx-silent-assassin-xX**__ as a collaboration. I may have one shots up on random intervals as well, so please do check out my profile! I post the current status of all my stories there!_

_I want to thank __**Xx-silent-assassin-xX **__ for her support as well as these lovely fans: __**TimeSpaceandMe, Pasta Loving Masochist, EmmaWood123, jellybeancow, **__and__** PaperNPenicl.**__ It meant a lot to me!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. It belongs to the BBC. However, when the day comes that I rule the world… well then… IT WILL BE MINE! :D**

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><p>Days had gone by and there had been no signs of the Master after their first initial visit. Dr. John Smith was really beginning to worry that something had happened to his rather eccentric patient. If only he had the Master's real name! Then, he could look for him himself. After all, he knew a few people who knew probation officers! Most probably wouldn't take the time to, especially after just one simple visit, but he wasn't most people. There was just something about the Master that made the newly nicknamed Doctor (oops! He had almost forgotten that he had agreed to that) oddly, oh what was the right word… attracted? Yes, attracted. There was something about the Master that made the young Doctor attracted to him. But not in a romantic way, no, definitely not like that. He was attracted to the Master in a way that he couldn't quite describe with words. At least, not well enough with words. If he had to try, curiosity would be among the first.<p>

The Master was nothing short of a complete mystery. All the Doctor knew was that he insisted on being called the Master, he had a probation officer, and somehow he managed to hold a job and keep social ties (though he didn't think there were very many) despite being so mentally impaired. He had seen in his eyes before, the turmoil his brain was in and the chaos that swirled through his thought. Something was plaguing him and destroying his sanity, or perhaps it all ready had. Perhaps he was just clinging to the last shreds of what he used to know and was meandering through his life on distant memories. He wasn't quite sure. He lightly pondered if he was on medication or why he wasn't all ready in an asylum, if that was the case. Just what had happened to the Master to cause him to be this way…? He'd never know the answers if the Master never returned!

Not only was it his curiosity that attracted him, but it was the Doctor's determination and want to help the Master. As fascinating as his psychological condition was, it was terribly unhealthy and needed to be fixed (or at least, fixed as much as he could.) There were obvious issues that had to be addressed and as the Master had said himself, they were allegedly "too difficult" for previous psychologists. He didn't even have a proper diagnosis yet for him! Sure, he could say that he was insane, egotistical, and a control freak. But that wasn't a diagnosis. Those were just first assumptions and the little things he scratched from the surface. It'd take a lot of time and a lot of appointments to properly diagnose the Master before they could even begin walking down the path to normality (or at least sense of it) and for that to even begin, the Master had to actually **come to his office. **

Despite everything, the fact that he was seeking help was good! It meant that he wanted change and that was certainly a step in the right direction. Unless, of course, it was part of the conditions to his probation. He needed to remind himself to add that to the list of questions he needed to ask the Master... He would have asked them all earlier, but he had to leave so suddenly before… Wait! Perhaps that was it! Perhaps he hadn't returned because he had violated the terms of his probation and he was in jail! If it wasn't his first time, it could certainly be plausible. No, that was ridiculous! All the Master had to do was say he was seeing a psychologist. That would have been a valid excuse enough. Unless, of course, the Master's pride stopped him from telling his probation officer that he was seeing the Doctor. Oh, there were too many possible answers for why he hadn't come back! Like, he could be in the hospital, or in jail, or in a morgue!

_Ring ring~ Ring ring~_

The sound of the Doctor's phone interrupted his rather erratic thoughts. Who could that be? He didn't have any patients today until 5 o'clock. A quick glance at the time told him it was only 3, so who could it be…? Could it be the Master?

With a sudden burst of energy, the Doctor flung the book he had been reading (prior to be distracted with jumbled thoughts) over his shoulder carelessly. He proceeded to launch himself up out of his chair towards the ringing phone on his desk with a rather loud exclamation of "_**Geronimo!**_" However, as impressive as his initial reaction was, the result wasn't. He ended up tripping over his own feet and tumbling forward. With a rather audible _**thud!**_ the Doctor's head smacked his desk, and a failed attempt to grasp onto something to keep from falling ended up with taking paper work and the phone down with him. With one hand on the rather large red mark now upon his head, the other picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

"Hello? Dr. John Smith speaking!"

"No need to tell me who you are, Doctor! I'm your receptionist."

"Ah, yes! Right of course! Sorry, thought you might be someone else calling. What is it, Amelia?"

"Your wife called. She had to move the dinner reservations from 8 o'clock to 7. She wanted me to tell you so you're not late again."

"Oh, Pond, when am I ever late?"

"Well, let's see… there was the time when you were late to-"

"Hold that thought for just a tick! I seem to have another call!"

The Doctor quickly switched to another line, a dead line, but none the less a different line. After a few moments, he returned to his original call. That should have taken care of that…

"As you were saying?"

"As I was saying, you've been late plenty of times. But don't you dare be late to your dinner with your wife!"

"Don't fret, I won't be. Blimey, you sound like my mother-in-law… anyway! Thank you for letting me know and if a patient comes in claiming he's "The Master", just let me know and send him on up!"

"That guy who looked like a hobo that came in last week?"

"At-a-girl! That's the one!"

"All right… if he does, I will."

"Thank you very much, Amelia."

"Mmhm…"

The Doctor hung the phone up with a sigh and picked himself off the floor. He felt quite sore now and a killer headache and he was pretty sure he was going to feel the effects of his rash reaction for a few more days. He probably shouldn't have been so exuberant, but there was nothing to be done about it now! All he could do now was reflect (which he probably wasn't going to do…) and move on! Oh, and also clean up the mess he made. That too. However, what should have been simply picking up the discarded book and fallen papers, turned into a mass rearranging and cleaning of his entire office. He tended to do that sometimes, especially when he had a lot of free time. At the end of it all, he quite liked it.

The walls of the Doctor's office were a basic beige color. He had three windows, two adjacent from the door to his office and one on left side of the room. He also had dark blue drapes on them. The Doctor quite liked the shade and a lot of the things he owned were of the same hue. Numerous bookshelves lined the walls of that left side and an arm chair sat by the window, the exact chair he had hurled himself from earlier to answer the phone. Luckily the window had been closed at the time; otherwise it might have hit someone in the streets below. By the two large windows sat his desk, facing the door. On it sat his phone, a picture of his lovely wife and paperwork, plus a lot of pens. He had a very expensive swirly chair for his desk that he loved to spin in from time to time. Filing cabinets to organize his papers were by the windows as well. On the right side of the room sat two big plush red arm chairs, just like the one by his bookshelves. The one he sat in had a small end table next to it. His certificates and degrees hung on the walls by those chairs, proudly displaying his credentials. He also had many clocks on his walls and on the bookshelves. He loved clocks, loved time… All his clocks were analog, all in different shapes and sizes. He was a clock collector. Odd thing to collect, but what's the problem with that? You should see his house! Tons of clocks there! … If he thought about it, his office was kind of like a room in his house. After all, he was there all the time so why not make it cozy?

_Ring ring~ Ring ring~_

The Doctor glanced over at a clock. 4. … he still had another hour before a patient! Perhaps it was another message for his wife. Or maybe the Master… Well, he sure wasn't going to run to the phone like last time! Oh no! He was going to take his sweet old time! He did **not** want to fall like last time. He carefully walked over the phone, watching his own feet to make sure he didn't trip again. Once he was next to it, he studied it, almost expecting it to suddenly jump up and hit him or for it to sudden self-destruct.

_Ring ring~ Ring ring~_

Rubbish! It wasn't going to do any of that! He was just being unreasonable now! He checked to see who it was. But still… he handled the phone quite carefully as he picked it up.

"Hello…?"

"You wanted me to call right?"

"Uh… yes! Yes I did! … I think?"

"About that hobo? I all ready sent him up the stairs, so he should be there soon. Unless he gets lost…"

"Oh! The Master! Right! Thank you, Amelia, I appreciate it!"

"Uh-huh…. He looked pretty peeved though, so be careful… Guy looks like a loose cannon."

"Oh? All right, I'll keep that in mind…"

The Doctor hung up before she could say anymore. He was rather worried now. He had to agree, the Master definitely did not seem like one who could keep his temper. Earlier outbursts and long worded rants were evidence gave evidence to that. He'd have to tread carefully then, just in case if he set him off. Something had him upset and maybe that's what led the Master to come today, instead of earlier. Maybe he just simply wanted a psychologist to help him on the blackest days, instead of wanting to better himself like he had once thought. He sincerely hoped it was the latter though, but if he truly just wanted someone to listen to him when he was extremely upset, he'd be there for that too.

**KNOCK **

**KNOCK**

**KNOCK**

**KNOCK**

The Doctor spun around to face the door, nervously adjusting his bowtie… That distinctive loud knock sounded like the Master was punching the door, contrary to knocking. He must really be upset then… Well, he'd help him just like he would with all his patients. He was psychologist and that was his job. No! Oh, no! No, that was wrong. He was a doctor and it was _passion_. No! Not even that! He wasn't just a doctor. He was **the** Doctor. So he'd wipe away his worried, nervous frown and replace it was a great big manic grin! He was ready for whatever might come through the door for he was the Doctor and this is what he lived for!

"The Doctor will see you now!"

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><p><em>Thank you very much for reading! Please remember to review! I love reading them! Don't forget to check my profile if you want a status update! Follow and fave if you want as well and please remember to message me through a review or a PM to suggest a patient please! <em>


	5. Of Caffeine and Sweets

_Howdy hey everybody! How are all my lovely loyal fans, wondering story searchers, and hopeful reviewers and followers today? Are all of you great and fantastic like I am? I sure hope so! This time I went from I, 986 words to a grand whopping total of 8,407 words! What was I on when I was writing this? I mean really! That's __**way**__ larger than what I would have normally reached. But, I did say that I'd give you the entire meeting last chapter. I hope that you like the new length!_

_To give you an update on my life: I went on vacation to the beautiful state of New York. The car ride was twelve hours long and when we got there, well… we did a whole lot of nothing. The majority of the time I was busy writing or arguing with my brother to get the XBOX 360 so I could play Skyrim (which I might write a fanfiction for) and Lego Batman 2. I had a lot of free time. In… 16 days, I'm going to college. I start my first year at the lovely Vincennes Campus in Vincennes, Indiana. If anyone of you go there, why not say something to me in a PM or review? I hope my chapters become better as I study English as a degree. I hope that one day I'll become an author, selling my books to people. For now, I'm just a fanfiction writer starving for reviews._

_The next chapter is __**NOT **__going to be a meeting at the Doctor's office to discuss how the Master is and such. Oh no, next chapter I'm following the __**Master.**__ I'll be introducing loads of new characters and hopefully I can stir up some plot juice. Throw in a little comedy maybe, some good old fashion drama… it should be a great chapter. _

_Thank you __**Xx-silent-assassin-xX **__for betaing my chapter for me! I apologize about it taking you half an hour to read it. :P I also want to thank all of those who followed and those who reviewed! I believe there were four who reviewed, so I thank you bunches and bunches! I just want to jump for joy and hug all of you when I get your reviews in the morning. Please remember to check my profile for the current status of your favorite stories; I update it every time I get online. As for actually updating my stories, well… as we all know, that takes me a while normally._

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. I do not own it. All I own are my lingering feelings of carsickness and my current enthusiasm for the London Olympics. (Go Team USA! And good luck to all those other athletes from all those other countries; make your country proud! :D)**

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><p>Upon the Doctor's command, the door swung open rather viciously, slamming into the wall from the force. There stood the Master, whose clenched teeth and furrowed eyebrows voiced his obvious aggravation. Oh yes, the Doctor could see why Amelia warned him to be careful. If looks could kill, the Doctor was sure he'd be in heaven by now. However, looks couldn't kill and he had a job to do. Despite his better instincts that were screaming 'Run and hide!', the Doctor simply took a step to the side and motioned for the Master to come inside.<p>

"Come in! Come in! Take a seat! It's been a while. I'm sure there are **lots** of things we need to talk about!"

The Master didn't enter the office right away though and his angry expression did not waver. He stood there, studying the Doctor with hardened eyes. The Doctor in turn felt his nervous feelings grow to new heights. He straightened his posture and clasped his hands together to keep himself from doing one of his obnoxious habits he would do when he was nervous. This awkward standoff continued for a few good long moments more. Then, the Master seemed to give in and just gave a nod, stepping through the doorway.

The Master let out a great sigh of possible exasperation or perhaps despair once through the doorway. He relaxed his tense, intimidating posture and took the liberty of taking off his hoodie. He placed it on the coat rack before he went to the same chair he had sat in once before and took a seat. Then, he closed his eyes and let himself sink to the plush material.

The Doctor's forced smile fell into a worried frown. Okay… perhaps the Master wasn't mad but _sad _instead? His earlier ferocity could simple be a front to hide his true emotions. He certainly seemed like the kind of person who would put up a false front to deceive anyone who thought they knew how he was feeling. Good thing his job was to find out what his deepest feelings were!

He went to his desk and picked up the clipboard he usually scribbled notes on during his sessions, then proceeded to go to the filing cabinet and pull his rather small file (it was a work in progress, of course). He finally took his seat in the chair adjacent from the Master. The blonde had yet to move, eyes still close. The Doctor studied him for a minute, trying to see if there was anything his body was telling him. The dark rings underneath his eyes, the almost sickly pale hue his skin began to possess, his unkempt hair and disorganized clothing choice…

"How have you been feeling? You seem a little agitated today."

The Master made no motion to answer his worried question. He remained still as a statue in the chair. The brunette's frown and concern grew deeper. He'd try a different approach then.

"Nice weather we've been having! Heard there's supposed to be rain tomorrow though, so bring your umbrella! Good thing it's not something like acid rain though. Wouldn't really need an umbrella then, would you?"

He waited patiently for a response but still received nothing. No words, no gestures, no stare, no movement, nothing. Was he being ignored now? He'd try something else… perhaps something mean or startling? No, he didn't want to be mean. He'd try the startling approach.

"**BOO!"**

Complete silence met his rather loud exclamation. It was now the Doctor's turn to let out a sigh of exasperation and sink into his chair. What was up with him? Was he playing a game? Was it 'Let's Ignore the Doctor!' day? Seriously, why would he come into his office all big and bad, then became sad and dejected and then sit in the chair and complete **ignore** him-

Unless he wasn't ignoring him. What if he was dead? Great Scott that must be it! He was **dead! ** No wait, that was preposterous. He could tell he was still breathing by the light heaving of his chest. … oh! Oh, of course! He was _sleeping_. The Doctor's expression softened. Must be a pretty deep sleeper to not have woken up yet. The Master looked like he needed it though… but, this wasn't his house. This was the Doctor's office. But… perhaps he could leave him for just a moment. What was the harm? He'd go get some coffee and tea and jammie dodgers and… he wasn't sure what else the Master would like.

The Doctor pushed himself out of his chair and strolled over to the phone. This might seem like quite the odd and possibly awkward request, but he knew Amy wouldn't bother him too much about it. She knew he did quirky things all the time. He glanced over at the Master who was still presumably sleeping to make sure he was doing such before he phoned Amelia at the front desk. The line picked up after a few rings.

"Yes?"

"Amelia! Hello! Looks like you actually checked the caller ID for once..."

"Oy, don't sound so surprised! I always check the caller ID before I answer, unlike _someone…"_

"It's not something that immediately crosses my mind…" the Doctor muttered, "But on a different note, I have a request to make!"

"Oh really? Well, shoot."

"Well you see, the Master-"

She cut him off mid sentence, "The _Master_? Really? He's called the Master?"

"Yes, yes he is," the Doctor confirmed, "but anyway, as I was saying, the Master fell asleep in one of the chairs and-"

"He fell _asleep?"_

"**Yes.** The chairs are quite comfy you know. Anyway, I just need you to go to the break room and make some black tea, I mean, because that's all there is, and coffee. Preferably** not** decaf! Oh, and grab the jammie dodgers I know that are somewhere. I mean, if anywhere, they have to be in there, so… they're somewhere in there! At least I think so. I can't remember if I bought any…"

There was a long pause from Amelia's end of the line.

"… you're joking, right?"

"Absolutely, positively not! I can't leave the Master here alone to get all of that! So, I need you to."

"Okay, sure. If you can do me a favor as well."

"Of course, Amelia! Anything!" the Doctor chirped as he adjusted the phone to a more comfortable position.

"Stop calling me Amelia. It's Amy. **Not **Amelia."

"Since when?" he exclaimed.

"Since I was like twelve!"

The Doctor shook his head muttering, "I don't recall you ever telling me this before, and I **do **call you Amy sometimes."

"Oh really? Well, that's what you said the **last** time I told you to call me Amy. Plus, you've only called me Amy **once** today!"

"Why would you want to change such a lovely name?" he asked, dumbfounded by her decision.

"It's childish. I'm not a child anymore. Amelia is a name from fairy tales and my life is far from it."

"I see…" he paused a moment, knowing her declaration of not being a child anymore was complete poppycock, "Can I still call you Pond?"

"I don't think you'd stop that even if I begged you to."

"Well then, _Pond_, can you get what I asked for?"

The Scot audibly sighed, "I'll be right there in a tick, John."

"Thank you **Amy**! I'll be waiting~"

About five minutes later, the door swung open after a few short raps. The Doctor looked up from the paperwork at his desk where he relocated himself while the Master slept. There entered Amelia "Amy" Pond. She was a rather tall young Scottish woman. A lot of things about her were, well, very Scottish! Though her skin was of a paler hue, her face was decorated with a couple of freckles here and there. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of green and her ginger hair that he was rather quite envious of (why wasn't **he** a ginger? He'd look _amazing_ as a ginger!) framed her face in rather stylish waves, stopping just below her shoulders. Today she wore a red hoodie, which was good considering it was now the fall season. However, he just couldn't quite understand why she decided that wearing a skirt was a good idea. Though the leggings and converse were better than no leggings and sandals, he would have liked to see her in something less… chilly looking.

As Amy made her way across the room to his desk, the Doctor couldn't help but smile lightly to his longtime friend. He had known for quite a while now. They had met when they were young. The time had been Easter in 1996. She had been seven at the time and he had just turned a whopping thirteen years old four days prior. She was living with her Aunt in Leadworth, a sleepy little town in England. Her parents had perished in an unfortunate and rather odd incident with a sink hole. The Doctor himself had just hit a rather interesting point in his life as well. A rather lively argument with his parents (with whom he **still **had trouble relating with) had forced the still immature teen to run away from home. Looking back at it now, he found his decision rather idiotic, but he didn't regret it for a second. He had met Amelia out of it and he wouldn't take that back for anything. Not once did he ever have a greater friend than her. A relationship first built of childish decisions and dreams as well as fish fingers and custard wasn't something to be scoffed at.

Thanks to Amelia, he returned home the very next morning and never ran away for his problems again. Before he left though, he promised he'd come back very soon to see her. They would go do amazing things and stay very best friends. Sadly, very soon turned into twelve years and when he finally did come back, graduated from college with his doctorate, the Amelia he had once known had changed into the Amy she was now; a brash, stubborn, feisty young woman with a flirtatious side and a tendency to be a little too honest at times. Not that he minded really. He just wished he had returned sooner to spend more time with her and to save her some of the troubles of being made fun of for having a raggedy imaginary best friend named John Smith who claimed he'd be the world's greatest Doctor one day. If he had, perhaps she wouldn't be so distrustful and more open about her feelings.

She forgave him, much to his relief, for being gone so long. Though it took two more long years, Amy moved to London and began to work for the Doctor at his new business as his receptionist. Rory Williams, her now husband, moved to London with her and was a nurse currently at some hospital that he could never remember the name of. Those two were quite happy together and currently working on having their first child. The Doctor couldn't be happier for them! He really hoped their happiness continued. If it didn't, he almost feared for Rory's life.

"Here you go," Amy said, setting the tray down on the Doctor's desk.

"Thank you, Amelia," the Doctor said warmly.

A sour look crossed Amy's face.

"Did you already forget to call me Amy?" she asked, obviously upset by his mistake.

The Doctor chuckled, however, and his head no before stating, "I didn't forget. I just think Amelia suits you better. Or, it did at least in that case."

"Uh-huh..."

Amy scanned the room a bit, before laying eyes on the Master's sleeping form. She turned to look back at the Doctor, quirking an eyebrow.

"He's still sleeping?" she inquired, "You haven't woke him up yet why?"

The Doctor glanced at the blonde before lightly shrugging his shoulders. He saw no reason to. He wasn't bothering anyone by sleeping and the Doctor's next appointment was still at least an hour away. Amy would probably disagree with his decision, but as far as voicing it goes, she didn't make any attempt to do so.

"Well, don't forget that your next appointment is very soon and..." Amy trailed off, taking another look around the room, "Did you rearrange the room?"

"Got carried away while organizing," he admitted sheepishly.

"Again?"

"Don't I always?" the brunette asked jokingly, setting the papers he had been working on aside.

Amy didn't answer his rhetorical question. Instead, she simply headed for the door to return to the front desk.

"Thank you again!" the Doctor called before she was completely out the door.

"You're welcome. Just remember: One hour!"

"Yeah yeah... One hour..."

Once the door clicked shut the Doctor sighed and leaned back in his seat. He really didn't want to get up now... But, he knew he couldn't just sit here and do nothing. He was at work; he could do nothing once he was in the comfort of his home, not his office. But he really didn't want to get up... Thankfully, his chair had wheels! He pushed himself away from his desk and across the room. Since noise hadn't worked earlier, the Doctor decided to take the physical approach.

Shaking the Master's shoulder firmly, the Doctor tried to coax him out of his slumber, "Up and at 'em Master! You can't keep sleeping; you're in my office, not your bed!"

Touch worked without a doubt, for the Master immediately woke, startled and not all too happy. He roughly smacked the Doctor's hand away and turned his shoulder way, obviously annoyed and still requiring sleep.

"Keep your bloody hands off of me…" he grumbled in clear displeasure.

The Doctor could not be deterred though. He knew the Master needed to be awake, no matter how much he didn't want to be. If he slept now then how was he going to get a good night's sleep later that night? He rolled his chair across the room once more and took the tray from his desk. Then, he returned back to the Master.

"You have to stay awake. I just can't let you spend the time we have sleeping, you know. Besides, I think I have about an hour or so before I have a _scheduled _appointment. Now," the Doctor explained before looking down at the tray in his lap, "Coffee or tea? And do you take sugar?"

The expression he received from the Master was one of frustration and perplexity. Nevertheless, the brunette acted like he didn't notice and continued to give the Master a warm smile (something the Doctor had a feeling the man rarely received.) He held up a cup of tea and a mug of coffee. There two more cups of each, so whichever one the Master chose didn't matter.

The Master reached out and took the mug of piping hot coffee from the Doctor, but did nothing to straighten out his posture. He still reminded huddled up against one side of the chair.

"Thanks… and I drink my coffee black. No sugar," he informed, before taking a large sip of his coffee.

The Doctor's smile grew slightly. He picked up the tray and sat himself in his big red chair before setting the tray back on the rolling desk chair. He decided that a cup of tea would do for him and after plopping in a handful of sugar cubes (he never really kept count), he stirred his tea with a spoon.

"You're most welcome! Would you like a jammie dodger? I have some; they're a great finger food with tea! Well, and I suppose coffee…" the brunette offered, taking himself a few jammie dodgers as he did.

The Master shook his head no and took another sip of his coffee. He seemed to really be enjoying it… which the Doctor was glad about! At least the young psychologist's efforts weren't going to waste. He took a small sip of his tea to test the sugary goodness of his drink. Perfect! He ate a jammie dodger before taking another sip. What should they talk about first today… should he let the Master start or should he ask one of the many questions plaguing his thoughts?

"Jelly baby?"

The young Doctor was pulled away from his thoughts and to the blonde sitting in front of him who was holding out a bag towards him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Jelly baby?"

"Oh um… thank you! That's really kind of you!"

The Doctor took a jelly baby from the bag and munched on it. He was pleasantly surprised! He hadn't expected him to be so nice and offer him something. It really was a surprising gesture.

"It's no problem, really. You offered me something so it's only right I offer you something. Don't make a big deal out of it." the Master said in a defensive tone, making an excuse for his act of kindness.

The Doctor didn't question his excuse, knowing that offering things to people might be something the Master wasn't accustomed to and that it might not happen again. The Master ate a few jelly babies before shoving them back into one of the pockets of his dirty, torn up jeans. So that's where they came from!

"I'm… sorry it's taken me so long to come back. I've been a _little_ busy… I should probably schedule my appointments from now on… you said we only have an hour?" The Master apologized.

Stirring his tea idly with a spoon, the Doctor shook his head and said, "You don't be sorry. I understand! Being busy isn't always a bad thing, you know. And yes, you should probably schedule some appointments. Feel free to pop by whenever you need to though. Just call ahead to Amy and it'll be taken care of. As for my next appointment… well… I don't think they'd mind too terribly if it went over a little bit. If you need more than an hour, that is."

The Master nodded a bit, but said nothing more. As the blonde continued to empty his mug of coffee, the Doctor couldn't help but worry somewhat about him. Though they had only had just one meeting previous to now, the psychologist could already tell something was bothering his patient. For one thing, his body posture was all out of whack. It wasn't as tall and dominating as it had been earlier. He just wasn't giving off the confident air he had before and he wasn't oozing self-esteem. Second off, he was being erratic in his behavior, much more so last week when he had simply just been loud and demanding. Today he went from extremely frustrated to looking like a dejected kitten. That and he fell asleep the very moment he sat down in one of the Doctor's chair. Now he was being withdrawn and guarded. Something must have happen over the week to cause this and he needed to find out what.

"Did you have a late night last night?" the Doctor asked, testing the waters.

"… Yeah, a very late night last night. Sorry about falling asleep. Won't happen again," the Master apologized once again (he was doing a lot of that today).

"It's quite all right. No harm done. Just try to rest a little more, okay?"

The Master only nodded and went back to drinking his coffee. It was a good thing there was a second mug. That one was going to be gone very soon; he could tell.

"So, what's new with you? What's been up? Has work been treating you well?" he asked, studying the Master's body language and behavior.

The Master just scowled at the word 'work' and didn't say anything about it. Apparently the Doctor needed to break the ice a bit more before he questioned him about his job. What could he start off with instead…

"Well, how have you been? How have you been feeling?"

"Like shit."

Well that was blunt.

"Well… why do you feel like that?"

"Because my headaches are getting worse, and Jack's being an asshole, and I hate my job!" The Master snapped, voice escalating near the end.

Ah, so that's what was bothering him. That was good to know, but he had no idea that he was having headaches, who Jack was, or even what his job was.

"Well, um… why are you having headaches?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The Doctor held back a sigh that wanted to escape. He wouldn't talk about his job or even why he had a headache. He guessed he had only one question he could try now. This would be so much easier if he'd just answer his questions.

"Who's Jack?" He asked, hoping, _praying_ that he'd get an answer for that question.

The Master grit his teeth together, clearly not wanting to talk about this subject either. However, he gave in and gave the brunette a much desired answer.

"My probation officer. He's the **freak** I have to report in to every Wednesday at 5. Otherwise, Iget in trouble and I might have to go back to court."

The Doctor was quiet for a few moments, rolling the blonde's words around in his head. Again with the probation officer… what had he done to grant himself one of those? It couldn't have been too serious. At least, he hoped it wasn't. Then again, he didn't exactly know the terms, so it might be serious. He didn't see a device on his ankle for house arrest, so that probably wasn't a term… he'd have to ask more about it. As for Jack, he pondered if this was the same Jack one of his patients talked about so frequently…

"Tell me more about this Jack. What's he like? Why do you call him a freak?"

"I call him a freak because he **is** one! The guy's an arrogant jackass from the States. He thinks he's untouchable! The guy would shag anything with a pulse too and he hates me," the Master proclaimed.

"Why do you say that?"

"The shag anything with a pulse bit or why he hates me?"

"Both."

The Master sighed, running a hand through his hair and finishing off his coffee before explaining, "Because, he's always making sexual innuendos. I think it's just an American thing, or maybe he's just immature and like that. The guy has to be about thirty or so."

"Is he making these sexual innuendos towards you?"

"What? No! No, he just does it in general. He flirts; he's a natural flirt. He flirts with anything that's pretty enough for him," the Master reassured.

"I see…" the Doctor took a sip of tea before saying, "And why do you think he hates you?"

"He never gives me a break! He's strict with the terms that are set for me and I don't try to break them, I really don't. I follow them the best I can, but it's hard… it's so damn hard."

The Doctor offered the Master a jammie dodger and the now much colder coffee mug. He took it without saying thank you or anything, but the Doctor knew he was grateful for it because he took an extremely large gulp of the black caffeine.

"I was late to the meeting. It isn't the first time I was late either. He warned me last time that if I was late again I'd be going to court. He wouldn't listen to me when I told him I was at the Doctor's office! He got all mad at me and said I was making up excuses. I admit I have before, but I was telling the truth, you know? I don't know what to do; I don't want to go back to court. Judges never like me."

"Can I ask what your terms are?" the Doctor asked gingerly.

Luckily, the Master wasn't shy to tell him. For that, he was grateful.

"Probation for four years unless there's trouble out of me. In which case my probation period may be extended till the probation officer and judge presiding over my case will decide when I no longer have to be probation. I have to go through anger management, hold a steady job with no incidents, and I can't leave the city of London for any reason other than a relative dying or a required business trip and stuff like that."

"I see… and what happens if you break these terms?"

"Jail if I continue to mess up my probation dates and I could _possibly _go to a mental institution if I happen to have a mental breakdown again… and I don't want to go back to either one of those."

The Doctor stopped drinking his tea mid-sip. He had been to _both_ of those? What on Earth did he do? He hadn't thought that Master was that bad… Clearly he was sane enough to not be in a mental institution like the Doctor had thought, but he _had _just said he'd be going back if he had another mental breakdown, so did he get those easily or on the rare occasion? Could that be why the Master looked so insane to the Doctor?

"Can I ask why you went to both of them?" he asked, setting his tea down.

The Master stared at the coffee mug in his hands, not replying. Obviously this wasn't something he wanted to discuss yet, just like his name. The young psychologist understood that there was so much more to the Master than what he could perceive. They could probably talk for days, but the truly painful things, the things that he told no one would take a lot of time to get out of him.

"It's okay," reassured the Doctor, "I understand. We don't have to talk about it yet."

The Master nodded, seemingly glad that the Doctor dropped the subject of why he had been in both jail and a mental institute. The Doctor ate a jammie dodger, to help him think of proper advice for the Master in dealing with this 'Jack.' That was his job after all.

"I think… that the next time you see Jack, you should apologize to him."

"_What?" _

"I know it's not what you _want _to do, but it's the right thing to do. I know you're bitter towards him, but there are some people in life you simply have to tolerate. Wouldn't it be better to tolerate him on peaceful terms than having to deal with him on bad terms?"

"But he's a jackass to me!"

The Doctor picked up the second cup of tea and put some sugar cubes in it. He stirred it, making sure it was just how he liked it.

"From what I can understand, he's harsh on your rules because you're continuously disobeying them and lying to him. He's just doing his job after all. If you hadn't used so many excuses earlier, he might have believed you when you actually told the truth. Haven't you heard the story of the Boy Who Cried Wolf? The story's a bit different than your scenario obviously, but it basically comes down to 'telling the truth is always the better thing to do,'" the Doctor explained, "Besides, you shouldn't be late to those to begin with. All that's going to do is get you in a load of trouble."

The Master visibly didn't like being told he was in the wrong, but after having it explained to him so clearly, he seemed to see the error of his ways.

"What do I do to get him to believe me this one time about not being late on purpose then? I'm going to court if I can't prove it," he explained.

"Give me his number and I'll call him for you. I need your name though-"

"**No.**"

The Doctor rubbed his temples, slightly annoyed. This wasn't something he could say no to. He understood that the Master didn't want to tell his name, to protect his identity and such. If he didn't want to go to court and to have Jack believe him, he needed to give up his name. He hadn't wanted to ask him about his name until later, but he didn't have much of a choice now.

"Just… just tell him the Master asked you to call! He'll know who you're talking about; I promise."

The brunette shook his head, "That won't do Master. I need to give him a legitimate name. The Master doesn't work."

"I don't want to tell you it yet," he whined, "I'm not ready to."

"Then, I can't call him and cover for you. You'll just have to go to court," The Doctor said.

The Master didn't seem to really like that idea very much. It was written all over his face. He was having an internal battle with himself. Tell his name or go to court? It was a bit pitiful that it came down to that, but there was nothing that could be done about it. He had to tell him his name or he was going to court and possibly jail or the nut house.

"How about we just go with the name people know me by as of now?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow lightly in a questioning manner. He had a different name now than he had before? That was rather… interesting. It wasn't something he had been expecting, in all honesty.

"Yes, that would be fine… You know, if that's the case, you could have just told me your new name to begin with," the Doctor stated.

"I didn't want to be called my name by you," he admitted, "It's nice to actually have someone call me 'The Master' you know? Not many people will, no matter how much I ask them to."

The psychologist unquestionably understood the blonde's logic in that. It really isn't every day that an individual would agree to called someone 'The Master' instead of a proper name. He somewhat pondered if by calling him 'The Master' if he had managed to create trust quicker than some other psychologist would. He didn't know if he'd ever know the answer for sure.

"If it comforts you any, I'll continue to call the Master. Even after I learn your… true name. Would you like me to do that?"

The Master nodded and set the second empty mug of coffee down. He produced the jelly babies from his pocket once more and snacked on them.

"Well, what's your name?" the Doctor asked, nibbling on one of the remaining jammie dodgers.

The Master didn't answer right away. He ate his remaining jelly babies instead and was obviously troubled by the fact he had to tell the brunette his name. However, he didn't keep quiet for too long. As soon as his jelly babies were gone, he shoved the empty bag in his pocket and sat more straight in his chair. He rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together before looking around the room in paranoia. From the way he was acting, it was like he was expecting someone to be eavesdropping to hear the world's greatest secret.

Wetting his lips the Master said in a hushed tone, "My name is Haro-… Koschei Oakdown."

"Koschei Oakdown?" the Doctor repeated, wanting to make sure he heard correctly.

"Yeah. It's nothing grand or spectacular," he quickly said, noticeably wanting to get away from the topic as quickly as possible, "My title is _so_ much better than that bland name. Of course it's not as boring as John Smith but Koschei Oakdown is nothing to really go nuts about. "

The Doctor arched an eyebrow in a questioning matter, asking, "Oh really? Why say that? I think it's a nice name. It's very unique and uncommon."

"I just don't like it. Can we stop talking about it now? I told you it, so let's just not talk about it anymore. Besides! You agreed to call me the Master anyway! Right? So why do we need to discuss my name?" the Master demanded, his voice raising and becoming noticeable louder.

"Whoa! Calm down! I was just simply saying I liked it. We don't have to talk about it anymore. Ok? Let's talk about other stuff, "reassured the Doctor, trying to calm the suddenly hysterical Master.

"Okay, other stuff. That sounds good," the Master mumbled, swiping one of the remaining three (now two) jammie dodgers they had and calming down to a very fragile state.

The Doctor finished the rest of his tea and set it down. What was there to talk about now? He needed to remove the topic of his name from the rest of this session completely. He could touch on it again next time, or maybe even later than that. The issue with Jack the probation officer (which he **swore** he thought sounded familiar) was taken care of as well, so no need to ask about that anymore. There wasn't much left he knew he needed to talk about today. He could try and touch up on things he asked earlier. Hope that their early progress had gotten rid of those imaginary but ever present barriers?

"Is your headache any better?" the Doctor inquired, "Do you need any aspirin for it?"

"No, it's... it's fine. It'll go away soon enough. Aspirin never really helps," the Master grumbled.

"All right then. If you're sure you're okay."

The Doctor decided to stop asking about that as well and move onto the one last thing he had said was bothering him. Maybe he could get something about work out of him while his guard was still down.

"What's going on with work? You said earlier you hated it. Why? Did something happen over the weekend?"

The blonde sighed in aggravation, clearly unhappy with that topic. He leaned back into the chair and rested his arms on the armrests. He was always so restless, the Doctor noted. Always fidgeting in his chair, messing with his sleeves or tapping his foot on the floor and fingers on the arm rest to some imaginary tune like he was now. It was distracting to a certain extent.

"I told you before that I don't really have to work with my co-workers right? That I normally just work from home?"

"Yes, yes you did. Though, I admit, you didn't really tell me what your line of work was," the Doctor replied.

"Right. Well… my boss says I can't do that anymore. So, I have to start working with everyone else. Instead of being by myself, **alone**, in the comfort of my own home, I have to be in a cubicle in the office building surrounded by people I don't know and that I'll hate."

The Doctor instantly understood why the Master was distraught over work. He knew the man had issues socializing with people, as he had all but told the Doctor earlier. That and such changes would all but be catastrophic and cause unneeded stress to the mentally unstable blonde. The Master felt like he had to be in control (hence his title), so being forced from his home where he was able to manipulate his surroundings in any way he chose to an environment where he **had **to interact with people that he couldn't control and follow the orders from his superiors gave him without question was simply something that the Doctor was afraid the Master couldn't handle.

"Where exactly do you do again? Who do you work for? I seem to have forgotten…" the Doctor lied, hoping to get the answers from the Master more easily this way.

"Seriously?" the Master asked, annoyed, "I work as an advertising designer for the Torchwood Corporation. As a matter of fact, I'm the best one in the advertisement department. Which… I suppose is why I just received a promotion to the advertising campaign manager."

That was a surprise. He _did _actually have control over some of the people in the company. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea, but he knew that the Torchwood Corporation had to know what they were doing. They were way to successful **not** to. This also made him very curious about his boss. He couldn't remember who was in charge.

"Wow, and you've manage to work at home this entire time?"

"Well, the boss decided that it'd be better for me to work from home rather than the office do to my legal and mental… situation. I believe that certain outside and inside influences may have also guided that decision, but I don't want to talk about that. I just know that due to a recent down period and several people having their jobs laid off because of the current situation of the economy, I now have to work at the office instead of home," the Master explained, "And my promotion was because I was the best at my job and the last manager was laid off apparently."

"Ah, well, that explains everything," said the psychologist.

And really, it did. The economy was taking its toll on everyone, apparently even big companies like the Torchwood Corporation. Though, the Doctor had to admit he was a little surprised by the kindness and flexibility the Master's boss showed towards the blonde. Who was his superior anyway? He honestly couldn't He might need to do some research. Or just read the newspaper once in a while…

"Are those the only changes? If you're now an advertising campaign advisor, you'd have an office, right?"

"Right…? So?"

"Well, that means you'll still somewhat be able to have your solitude. That office is your personal space, so you can do whatever you'd like. Within reason, that is," the Doctor pointed out.

The Master was silent for a time, obviously thinking about what the Doctor had said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. It is my own space. But no, those weren't the only changes. The boss gave me a personal assistant to help me if I 'get too overwhelmed or need a break.' Honestly, I don't need an assistant. I'm perfectly capable of doing my job without some assistant getting in my way. All they're going to do is slow me down!"

"Well hold on a second. An assistant isn't a bad thing for you. An assistant would allow you to get more things done and be more productive. No offense to you, but you don't seem like you're very good at that."

"I'm perfectly fine at that!" the Master snapped, angered by his correct accusation, "I just have trouble concentrating sometimes!"

"I'm just saying an assistant isn't a bad thing."

"Well what do you think I should do? I don't want to work at the office or have a bloody assistant that I **don't** need. I just want to stay home and be alone."

His answer for this situation took a lot longer than it had for the dilemma with Jack. If the Master was honestly going to follow his advice, then he needed to give him the best advice possible. His new position in the company and sanity could depend on it. He had to think of even the littlest things; the things that should come natural. It almost felt like he was devising a battle plan!

"There's a lot you should do, Master. First off, I'd be friendly to your co-workers. It goes along with what I said earlier about Jack. There are people you just have to deal with whether you want to or not and it's better to deal with them on a positive note than on a negative one. You could do little things like say good morning, especially if they sat it first. Don't ignore people, make friendly conversation. Smile. Just try and be social."

"But I hate my co-workers!"

"Do you really? Do you actually know them?"

The Master opened his mouth to probably say 'Yes,' but he stopped himself to think.

"The answer to that is no. From what you've told me, you **don't** even know them. So how can you hate someone you don't know? You hate the idea of _having_ co-workers, not your co-workers themselves. Wait a bit and _then _decide if you hate your co-workers," the Doctor explained.

The blonde thought on his words for a period before nodding in agreement, "All right, I guess I'll do that."

"Also, as I said before, if you have an office, you'll most likely be able to do whatever you like with it. So, use that privilege to your full advantage. It's your space; do with it as you please. You're now a manager… I'm not sure if that's a wise idea, but it's what you are now. Those people are looking you're your guidance. Use your new position wisely. I'm not sure if I'm correct on my assumption, but you like to be able to manipulate your environment, don't you? If so, do it wisely and not recklessly and towards your own personal gain."

The Master didn't appear to like his accusation or his somewhat harsh advice very much, but he made no attempt to deny it.

"And lastly, be nice to your assistant and go easy on him or her. I know you didn't want one, but you need to accept it graciously. Otherwise, you could insult your boss who's just trying to help you. You don't want to do that, do you? "

"No… I like my boss."

The Doctor smiled lightly, "Good! Then get along with your assistant to the best of your abilities. Do your job and let them do their job and everything will be a-okay! Okay?"

"Okay, I can do that," the Master sighed.

"Great!"

The Doctor was very pleased that the Master was agreeing to do everything he was asking him to do. He had high hopes for the Master and he knew that if he actually did what the young psychologist asked of him, then he'd be on the right path to having a pleasant work environment. He might even make a few friends! The Master had said he didn't have very many anymore, didn't he? Hmm, now that he thought about, there was still a lot the Doctor needed to know about the Master. He had been planning to ask him all sorts of things before he had become worried about how the Master was doing.

"I have a few questions for you. I just want to know some things that we really didn't talk about the first time you were here," the psychologist began, picking up the clipboard and pen he had on the end table next to his chair.

The Master looked at the nearest clock to him, asking, "Do we have time?"

"'Do we have time?' Of course we have time! I always have time; I can always make time!" the brunette reassured, dismissing any worries his patient had, "It's just a few questions, after all."

"All right then, I guess I can answer some questions for you."

"Great!" the Doctor exclaimed.

He reached for the Master's file on his desk and opened it. There were still a lot of things that needed to be filled in.

He quickly jotted down some of the things he knew, mumbling to himself, "Okay, let's start with… well, no, you already told your occupation and place of work. … And your name. You filled out your age and birthday… How about your family! Tell me about them!"

"My family…?" the Master parroted, "I… I'm an only child. I haven't seen or spoken to my mum in a **very** long time and I don't talk to my father anymore."  
>The Doctor wrote all this down, writing side notes as he went. He had figured the Master was an only child from the way he acted. He also made note of the difference he had when talking about either parent. Mum and father? He must be attached to his mother much more so than his father.<p>

"Have you tried to contact your mother recently?" the Doctor asked.

"… no… and I really don't want to talk about her."

"Okay," the Doctor stopped writing for a moment before asking, "And your father? What about him? Have you tried to speak to him or see him?"

"No, and I don't want to. The bastard can go die for all I care." He snapped.

Obvious resentment there… Family seemed to be a touchy subject as well as his real name. He'd have to press the topic later.

"Were you ever married and do you have kids?"

"… I don't want to talk about that."

Hm… that told the young psychologist that the Master may have had a wife and kids at some point in his life but he couldn't be for sure yet. He'd have to ask later.

"What kind of house do you live in?"

"Why?" he asked, becoming defensive.

"I'm just curious," the Doctor remarked, "Do you live in a flat or a regular old house?"

"I live in a pent house."

Oh, so the Master must was well off. Either had a really nice income (considering his promotion, it wasn't that surprising) or perhaps his family had money? Maybe his father was paying for it?

"Do you have pets?"

"No."

"Would you ever have a pet?"

"Probably not."

"How many friends do you have?"

The Master inhaled deeply, stalling his answer, "None."

The Doctor stopped writing and looked up, confused and surprised, "None at all?"

"Nope."

"Why ever not?"

"I just don't anymore. I lost them all and I don't want to talk about!"

"Okay then, sorry, I didn't mean to hit a touchy subject…"

So the Master had really been telling the truth. He had no family or friends. That was… really sad. No one deserved to be alone like that. To have no family to care for them or friends to talk to… that wasn't something anyone should have to deal with. The Doctor wondered if maybe that's why the Master seemed so crazed and so untrustworthy of people. If the loneliness was just getting to him. He was beginning to think that might be the reason. That, and maybe whatever caused to him grow distant from everyone, to despise his own name, to have a probation officer, and simply be what he was today. This seemed more like something that was product of environment more than something he was born with. He'd keep that to himself for now.

"What do you do for fun?"

"Nothing really," the Master admitted with a shrug.

"You must do something."

The Master had to think on it for a time, "I guess… I read books. Or I watch the tele. Go out to the bar, get drunk, sleep… I don't really have an exciting life."

"Maybe you should try and find something to do," the Doctor suggested, "Like… sky diving or hiking! Maybe fishing?"

The Master gave the Doctor a look that practically said, 'Are you serious?'

"I'm not really into those kind of things. The only thing that sounded very appealing was sky diving. I mean, jumping out of a plane and possibly dying sounds quite fun!"

The Doctor couldn't tell if the blonde was being sarcastic or being serious.

"It's just a suggestion…" the Doctor mumbled, "Describe an average day in the life of the Master."

"I get up in the morning, take a shower, eat breakfast, work for about three hours, eat lunch, work for about five hours, eat dinner, watch the tele or read a book, maybe leave the house and get drunk, maybe bring someone home to shag, go to sleep, and restart!"

"Well… that's… very interesting," the Doctor mused, writing down some more side notes.

These small questions continued on for the rest of the time the Master was there. Some of these questions led into rants that the Doctor had become familiar with the first time the Master ever came to see the Doctor. The ranged from small things like how much the Master wanted to throw his neighbor's yappy Yorkshire terrier over the balcony to how idiotic Parliament was currently being and what he would do if he was in charge. The Doctor had to say, the Master certainly knew his politics. More and more, the Doctor was beginning to understand the Master. Even if it was only in bits and pieces. By the time they were done talking, the Doctor's previously empty form on the Master was filled and Amy was calling his phone to inform him that his next patient was here to see him.

"I'll phone you when it's time to send him in. I need to finish up with the Master first," the Doctor informed Amy before hanging up the phone.

The Master was busy pulling his hoodie over his head by the time the Doctor had turned back around to speak with him.

"Master, before you go, can you give me the number and name of your probation officer?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure thing." The blonde replied, going to the Doctor's desk and wrote the information down in his messy, large handwriting.

Once he was done, he handed the pen and paper to the Doctor who took it eagerly. Jack Harkness. He recognized that name from somewhere! He just knew it! But where from…?

"Thank you! I'll make sure to call him after work tonight. I promise. Before you go, make sure you schedule an appointment with my receptionist Amy, okay? That way we won't be pressed for time next time," the Doctor said.

The Master nodded in agreement and headed for the door quiet. He still seemed to be in a less than fantastic mood, but it was improved compared to when he first came. The pressure of his probation officer and work was still getting to him, but the Doctor had a feeling he'd be back to the same way he was the first time he came to his office when he came back next time.

"Have a good day Master! Good luck with Jack and work! Remember what I told you!" the Doctor exclaimed, going back to his phone to call his next patient in.

"Yeah, whatever. See you later." The Master muttered, closing the door behind him.

He had work the very next day; he had things he needed to get done.

* * *

><p><em>Tune in next time for when the Master goes to his first day of work at the office. We'll have to see if he follows the Doctor's advice or if he follows his chaotic whims. Won't that be fun? If you liked, please review. I'd love the feedback. If you haven't done so already, why not follow to know straight away if I've updated. Have a great day! :D<em>

_P.S. Did any of you notice yet that I slide little quotes and reference from the episodes and books and comics into my stories? See how many you can find!_


	6. A Note: Not A Chapter

I would like to inform you all on why I won't be updating this story for most likely a very long time. Since this is my most viewed story, I find it only right to personally tell you why I won't be updating.

This story, as you know, was originally a text message written for my best friend. I turned it into a drabble and she and you all liked it. I continued writing it for her and you, the viewer. The Master I write and the Eleven I write was our Master and Eleven. The way we say him and the way we thought they were. I never meant for this to be anything but our story. The fact you all liked it just gave me another reason to write this.

I can't write this for a while because my best friend passed away two to three days ago. That beautiful, lovely girl... passed away. The stress she was under from one of her professors and college as well as previous trauma she had suffered. I was too late to do anything more than just be there for her and now she won't be back again. I don't know how long it'll be until I find closure and can stop seeing her in everything. I just need to let you know that until I can cope with her death, I will not be able to write this story anymore.

I hope you all understand. Thank you for taking your time to read this.


End file.
